


Fidelity

by BartonStark (BloodEnvy)



Series: Kinds of Love [10]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 11:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21355579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BartonStark
Summary: *wedding bells ring*
Relationships: Tony Stark & Reader, Tony Stark/Original Character(s), Tony Stark/Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark/Reader, Tony Stark/You
Series: Kinds of Love [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1080789
Comments: 6
Kudos: 129





	Fidelity

Light, airy music trickled in through the ajar window along with the breeze, and you stood, moving to the window as you tried to recognize the tune. An artfully-made archway of light-colored wood had been built on the lawn outside about thirty feet from the house, draped in stark white cotton and blush-colored flowers and delicate wreaths of baby’s breath. There were no chairs – it seemed unnecessary with so few guests invited – just a small table set to the side of the arch to hold the marriage certificate.

Butterflies rose in your midsection.

You returned to the dresser, eyes on the mirror as you applied the finishing touches to your make up. You traced your lips in red, bright against the white of your wedding night lingerie and the robe you wore over it.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful!” you glanced up, smiling widely at Laura Barton’s reflection behind you. She closed the door quietly behind her as you wrapped the robe around yourself and secured it, three-year-old Nathaniel balanced on her hip and already dressed in his own little button-down and vest.

Laura was wearing a lilac wrap dress, Nate’s tiny fist bunched in the ruffle over her shoulder. She’d tucked her curls over the other shoulder, no doubt to avoid them getting the same treatment. “Mr. Stark isn’t going to know what hit him.”

“Pretty sure he asked you to call him ‘Tony’.”

“And I will,” she smirked crookedly. “As soon as he stops calling me ‘Super-Secret Housewife’.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll have a word with him.”

“Ooh, you are going to be a wife to be reckoned with,” Laura teased, and the butterflies relaunched.

You grinned, your excitement pulling your mouth too wide. “I’m gonna be a _wife._”

Laura gave a little squeak of excitement, juggling Nate to the side to wrap an around you in a hug. She touched a hand to your hair as she pulled away, smoothing a flyaway delicately. “He’s a lucky guy, Y/N.”

“Not as lucky as me,” you replied, squeezing your hands together. “Would I sound like a huge cliché if I said I can’t believe this is really happening?”

“Only as much as I did on my wedding day,” she laughed.

“Laura, thank you so much for all of this.”

You were standing in the master bedroom of the Barton farmhouse, with a garment bag hanging from the wardrobe door and the contents of your make up bag strewn across the top of Laura’s dresser. Your overnight bag sat open on Clint and Laura’s bed.

Tony had tried to convince Ross to lift Clint’s house arrest for your wedding day – set a month before the decoy date that had been leaked to the press once they’d caught wind of your nuptials – but the man hadn’t budged. So, Tony had surprised you with another idea.

He’d called Clint and surprised you with the venue change on the drive last night. He’d dropped you off with a kiss on your cheek and a friendly wave to Clint before he’d driven off to the room he’d booked in the nearest hotel. You’d woken to breakfast on the stove and a gaggle of excited kids running into the guest room to wake you.

Lila had already knocked eagerly on the door to show you her new dress, and you’d heard Clint holler more than once for her and Cooper to stop running down the hall.

“I mean, you barely know either of us, and you’ve done all this…”

“Are you kidding?” she told you, setting Nate down on the bed. “Honey, you’re family! After everything you’ve been through with Clint, and all those times those magic shields of yours have saved his life—”

“—But after everything with the Accords—”

“Families fight, Y/N. You did what you thought was right; Clint was never going to be able to hold that against you. It’s the same thing he was doing. Besides,” she continued with a warm smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as speechless as he was last night. You might have broken him.”

You snickered, your nerves stirring in your belly again as you heard a car door slam. “Is that Tony?”

“He got here an hour ago.” she said with a shake of her head. “Must be the photographer. I better go show them where to set up.”

“Okay.”

“Nate, no—” she scolded exasperatedly as he tried to climb into your suitcase, fat little fists closing around the heel of your shoe. She scooped him up into her arms before he could bring it to his mouth, giving you a smirk before she moved to leave. “Better get dressed, honey. And no more peeking out the window; you’ll ruin the effect.”

You gave her a mock-salute and a grin. “Yes ma’am.”

You turned to the window as the door closed behind her only to close the blinds before moving to unzip the garment bag. The stark white lace spilled from it, and you ran your fingertips along the pattern gently. Everything seemed so surreal.

“It’s a pretty dress.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you spun around, eyes wide. “What are you—”

Nat smiled at you from where she stood against the door; one of those warm and familiar, one-sided smiles you’d missed so much over the last year. She was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, and you couldn’t help but double-take as you took in once-fiery hair now hanging a pale blonde. “Did you really think I’d miss it?”

Her grin widened as you rushed to her, wrapping your arms around her neck. She squeezed you back, her chin tucked over your shoulder. She held onto you for a few long moments before holding you out at arm’s length. Your robe had loosened, and she raised a teasing eyebrow.

“Stark really never really stood a chance against you, did he?”

“You make it sound like I seduced him.”

“Only by being your incredible self.”

“Flatterer.” you said. “What are you doing here? How’d you even find out? Why the hell are you _blonde_…?”

She chuckled, tucking it behind her ear. “It’s easier to be lost in a crowd when they’re looking for one thing and you happen to be something else. Sometimes the simplest things can do wonders.”

“Do the others know you’re here?”

Nat shook her head. “Plausible deniability in case Ross has any questions. Although, I wouldn’t doubt that Clint has realized it by now.”

“You aren’t going to see him?”

The curve of her smile turned sad. “Don’t want to risk extending his sentence.”

“Then he didn’t tell you we were here. Or about the wedding.”

“Even off the grid we still get the news,” she replied as she stepped past you to sit on the edge of the bed. She touched a hand to the duvet, running her fingers over the material. “And you’ve been all over it. Still, the two of you caught Steve by surprise.”

“We caught each other by surprise, I think.” You said quietly, sitting beside her.

“That’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” you scoffed. “So, we caught Steve. Did we catch you?”

She smiled again, her lips pursing slightly in amusement. “You should be getting ready. Won’t be long before the wedding march starts.”

You snickered, standing and moving to take your dress from its hanger. You turned your back to her as you slipped the robe from your shoulders and went through the motions of slipping on your wedding gown. “So, if Clint isn’t the one who told you, who did?”

“Tony did.” she said simply as she stood, stepping up behind you to begin carefully fastening the many buttons that lined the back of the bodice.

You paused, surprised. “He did? How?”

“Steve sent him a phone. Said if he ever needed us, all he had to do was call.” she explained. “He didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head.

“He told him you needed us,” she continued gently, fingers soft on the back of your dress. You could hear her smile in her voice. “I don’t think it was an easy call for him to make. With his pride, I didn’t think he’d ever call at all.”

“He’s not so proud. He’s just playing pretend.” you said quietly as she stepped back, and you turned to face her. “You were supposed to be my bridesmaid, you know.”

“Who do you have now?”

“I don’t.” you shrugged, a tightness in your throat. “Couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted there with me.”

She touched a hand to your cheek. “You’re a beautiful bride, Y/N.”

You looked down at yourself, smoothing your hands anxiously over the skirt of your dress. You arranged the folds of it carefully around yourself. A simple, understated A-line cut that fell from your waist to flare ever so slightly down to the floor. A slit rose daringly high on one thigh. You ghosted your fingertips over the light corseting at your waist; nervously adjusted the deep cut of the v-neckline. You looked back up at her, biting your lip.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too,” she replied, warm and honest. “And we’re going to be here. Steve and Wanda and I. We’ll see the whole thing. We wouldn’t miss it.”

You smiled, and you could feel tears well in your eyes. “Thank you.”

“I have something for you,” she continued, as though she’d only just remembered. Hand in her pocket, she took your hand in her other. She looked down, a smile gracing her lips again. “Consider it your something blue. And something borrowed.”

She turned your hand over in hers, pressing a patch into your fingers. It was an Avengers’ ‘A’, and you ran your thumb over the material. “Is this from…?”

“Steve’s uniform.” she nodded. “Guess he wasn’t as ready to give the team up as we thought.”

You grinned, pressing your lips together in hopes that you’d keep your emotions under control. You fumbled for a place to put it for a moment before pulling your skirt aside and tucking it into the thin lace garter halfway up your thigh. Nat chuckled as you straightened.

“You’re coming home, right?”

“Someday.” she said. “World always seems to need saving, doesn’t it?”

***

“You know, Clint, I don’t think you have to escort me all the way from here. I think the edge of the porch is fine.”

Clint grinned widely, offering you the crook of his arm. You took it with a good-natured roll of your eyes, his hand warm and calloused it slid over yours, holding it in place against his forearm. “Can’t have you tripping down the stairs, can we?”

“Once. Once that happened.” you protested with a laugh as he began leading you down the stairs. “And I didn’t break anything, did I?”

“Only ‘cause you fell straight into Bruce.”

“Which I apologized for!” you said, and Clint snickered. Sobering slightly, you gave him a warm smile, squeezing his arm as you came to the foot of the stairs. “You look pretty damn good in a suit, by the way. I’m starting to see how you managed to snag a fox like Laura.”

Clint gave you a lopsided smirk and a laugh. “You don’t look so bad yourself, kid.”

“It’s my wedding day, and you still call me ‘kid’?”

“You could be eighty-three and President of these United States and you’ll still be ‘kid’ to me,” he said affectionately. He bumped his shoulder against yours playfully and you scoffed.

“Yeah? And what would that make you, old man?”

“I would hope your dashing and formidable Vice President,” he teased, and you laughed. He brought you to a stop as you came to the back door; you could just hear the sound of music and light chatter through the wood, warmth and excitement underscoring the conversations you couldn’t quite hear. He turned to face you, clearing his throat and taking your hands in his. “I, uh… I know I haven’t been… exactly…”

“Supportive?”

“There’s a word for it,” he smiled sheepishly, relaxing slightly. “I—”

“Clint, it’s okay,” you assured him. “You don’t have to give me some big speech about how you want me to be happy or how you’ve accepted me being with Tony. You’re here. You let us be here. You’re _walking me down the aisle. _You’ve said it already.”

“You’re a hell of a lot more eloquent about this shit than I am.”

“Pure talent, Hawkeye.”

“Sure it is, Barricade,” he snickered.

“So,” you smiled, straightening slightly and exhaling. “How ‘bout we go get me married?”

Clint grinned back at you, offering you his arm again and moving to open the door. “Let’s do it, kid.”

***

_“You know, I put a lot of thought into what I was going to say today… more so than I would usually put in in any other situation.”_

“So, it turns of Mr. and Mrs. Hawkeye throw a pretty good shindig, Tony said with a smile, one hand warm and delightfully possessive on the small of your back. The other was wrapped around your own; his fingertips kept finding the wedding band on your finger, like a tiny, subconscious desire to make sure it was really there. You laughed as he spun the both of you in time with the music; his body was pressed to yours, his lips touching your temple as he spoke in your ear. “Remind me to tell Ygritte they did a good job.”

“You know her name is Laura, right, honey?” Your arms were around his neck, a half-full champagne flute for the each of you in your hands. The stems clinked together with your movements, and you’d surprised even yourself that you hadn’t spilt any yet. You’d tried to tell him that as he’d pulled you into his arms, but he’d shrugged away any worry about potential damage to his tuxedo.

Tony raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk, leaning back enough to take his glass from you. “Not Laura. Her husband.”

“’Ygritte’?”

“_Game of Thrones._”

“Ah,” you rolled your eyes with a smile, now empty fingertips playing idly with the hair at the nape of his neck as you sipped your champagne. “I might regret convincing you to watch that one. Your archer references are getting a little too obscure.”

He brushed hair behind your ear with a gentle hand, a light smile on his lips. “Noted.”

_“I tend to just say the first thing that comes in my head… most of which is something sarcastic. But I did. I spent a lot of time over the last few weeks… hours… thinking about what it was I was going to say up here, standing here with you in front of all the… in front of some of the most important people in our lives.”_

“I don’t think this quite counts as a shindig,” you replied teasingly, sliding your free hand over his shoulder and smoothing the lapel of his suit. “I haven’t seen a single wine barrel, _or _a bale of hay being used as furniture.”

“Ah, but that would be a hootenanny. Not a shindig.”

“Oh, of course,” you eyerolled with a smile at his scholarly tone. “How silly of me.”

“Always happy to help, Mrs. Stark.”

His lips were in your hair again, and you wanted to melt into his embrace. You settled for returning the gesture and pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I don’t think I want to be called anything else ever again.” you blushed.

“So, no more ‘sweetheart’?”

“And just like that it turns out I was wrong,” you laughed, slinging your arm around his neck as he captured you in a kiss. It was sweet and loving, tickling with champagne and joy.

“Sweetheart Stark.”

“Great,” you joked. “It’ll sound like you married a stripper.”

“Well, you _are _really good at—”

“Or a _My Little Pony._” you finished pointedly, pinching him by way of teasing reprimand.

_“And y’know, everything sounded so cliched and old hat except for the fact that I love you. I can’t think of anything more important and more incredible than that.”_

“Hey,” you started slightly as Tony found you again. The two of you had been separated by well-wishing friends; he’d been lured away by best man Rhodey with a bottle of scotch while you had danced with Lila and Cooper. His hand slid over your hip, and you smiled as you leaned back against him, interlacing your fingers with his over your side. The sun was setting, setting the lawn aglow. “What are you looking at?”

You dragged your eyes away from the edge of the Barton land reluctantly, eyes closing as he kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Good day?”

“Happiest.” He said, offering you his glass. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Couldn’t be more perfect.” you grinned warmly from over the rim of the glass. “So, are you going to tell me whether or not Fury was ordained _before _this wedding?”

“What, do you think he actually told me?”

“You ever gonna let each other go?” Clint called out from where he was sitting on the porch step, grin on his face and Nathanial on his knee.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Tony called back, pulling you towards him and wrapping his arms around your waist as your back met his chest. You laughed as his lips brushed against your neck, and he rocked the two of you playfully back and forth to the music.

“God, you’re such a dork,” you said, arching your neck back to kiss him. His arms tightened possessively around you it deepened.

“You love it.”

_“It might even be the biggest cliché, a guy like me telling a girl like he loves her. But maybe that’s why clichés exist. Because they’re true. Because they’re real. And there is nothing in the world that is more real to me than the way I feel about you. And I really, really love you, Y/N. More than I really thought was ever possible. And at the risk of another cliché, I gotta say, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my damn life with you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Coming soon: the wedding night!


End file.
